


Water Me

by Beregini



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Comfort, F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24443215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beregini/pseuds/Beregini
Summary: When your husband revealed that he had cheated on you countless times, you thought it was the best for you to visit your older brother and seek comfort in his arms, just like you used to a long time ago.
Relationships: Bucky/Sister!Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sister!Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 83





	Water Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic i ever posted and i hope you enjoy it!

Bucky cooked for you in the middle of the night. 23.47. You watched him move his way about the stove as you sat on the stool behind the counter. Once finished he placed the plate in front of you. Greasy bacon and over easy Eggs with a side of Hash brown. Then a glass of cold grape juice. Everything just how you like it. Just like he used to.

Your tears have dried, but your eyes were in pain. Scrubbed raw with your hands. He wanted to hear the full story before he allowed you to bed. Headstrong as ever, too much alike. 

He was dressed in black sweater and black sweatpant. Short hair disheveled from sleep. Half an hour ago you had woken him with your head on his chest after you let yourself in with a spare key to his apartment he had given a long time ago. He would’ve pinned you to his bed and have you in chokehold if your weight and your cologne wasn’t so familiar. 

“Eat first. Then we’ll talk.” so you did. His food was home to your taste buds. The way he put salt after the eggs are cooked. The same brand of Grape juice since you were kids. The crumbling but crispy Hash brown. Your tears fell once more at the sentiment. And he watched you. Ghost of furrows on his brows. Almost like he was in pain. But you were too overwhelmed to even pay any attention to him. 

After he washed the dishes and you gulped the last drop of the juice, he sat beside you. Arm on the counter, body directed to you. 

“Doll, what happened?” he said. 

“He slept with another woman.” it hurt you even more when you said it out loud. You drummed your fingers on the counter, unsure what you were going to say next. But he didn’t nag, didn’t ask who it was, or when it happened. He was just there. Giving time you so clearly need. Yet you can pinpoint the moment he was seeing red. His jaws clenched. Eyes hard and the rise and fall of his chest became more visible. If his anger could burst into a raging fire that would engulf the building of his apartment, it would. 

“And it was not once. He said it started 3 months after we got married. That he enjoys the secrecy— the thrill of it. I- i don’t know what to do.” you said. Staring at nowhere in particular. 

“Stay here, for a while. Or as long as you like.” he brought his hand to caress your cheekbone. You sighed and you nodded in agreement. It was a fine idea. 

__

The next day Bucky took it upon himself to do the hard work. Childhood best friend be damned. He had beaten Steve black and blue and came back without a single bruise. It’s as if Steve had willingly let Bucky beat him. Like a recognition that he was guilty and he deserved it. No charges were made, and that confirmed your assumption. 

You let Bucky mend you. You like that he tried. He cooked for you every day and got home from his work early for you many times. He took you to your favorite places and rode with you on his Harley at night. Your arms around his waist and occasionally you see him smile at you in the rearview mirror. 

One time he took you to the beach after the ride. Staring into the black sky as both of you stand on the shore. Pants rolled, calves in the water. Gusts of wind nipped at your skin.

“Remember when you first introduced me to Steve?” You asked.

“Mm.”

“Industry heir, kind as fuck, pearly smile, straight A student, a Jock, all out American. Darling of the family.”

He stared at you. Unsure of your ramblings.

“I always thought he was too perfect. Like I knew he had some other side. A violent past or a dark kink or something.” You sway your foot lighty in the water.

“And I was right.” You turned to him. A thoroughly satisfied smile spread on your face. “The golden boy finally slipped up.” 

__

“Here, it came in the mail.” He nudged you with a Manila envelope. You looked up to him from the tv and wasted no time perusing the contents. A tremendous weight lifted from your shoulders when you read the papers and saw Steve’s signature.

“What is it?” Bucky sat beside you. His breath glided on your neck.

“Our divorce settlement.” His eyebrows raised. 

“How much are you taking?”

“A lot.”

“A lot?”

“A lot, a lot.” He smiled at you and your smile mirrored his as he tucked your flyaways.

“Good girl.”

—

You and Bucky had spent a long night of drinking at the bar after you signed your settlement papers. 

Together you munched on Nachos with lousy beers and reminisced about memories; Your childhood ones, predicaments at the time you and him attended boarding school, Then stories about your life 2 years apart from each other after you married Steve. what had happened, what you wished would happen. That life was dull with Steve. You barely felt his presence when he hid behind excuses such as business meetings all the time. You suspected the affair then, but perhaps you refused to believe that would be the consequences for loving him.

He told you his stories too. Of a new friend he made named Sam a couple months ago who was a war vet just like him. Of a girl he almost loved but he couldn’t bring himself to love her. When you asked why, his answer was “nothing in particular.”

And both of you laughed, hard. About nothing and everything at the same time. You snorted and he laughed harder at the sound of it. Then he stared, warmth in his eyes with the sweetest smile on his lips. Your heart palpitated twice as fast when you noticed. You missed him more than you thought. You regret there was a rift between you the moment you became Mrs. Rogers. 

—

“You’re smoking now?” 

“I’m an adult, Buck.” He came to you at the balcony, bodies leaned against the bannister. You were watching the moon hide behind the clouds.

“You’re still my baby sister.” he snatched the cigarette from your lips, took a long drag of smoke then sighed the smoke through his nose. 

“I can be an adult _and_ your baby sister.” you reached for the cigarette but he stretched his hand upwards. He smiled when you gave up. 

Before you were going to take another from the pack he kissed your cheek and gave you back the cigarette.

“I know.” he said, returning himself to the apartment. Your cheeks warmed at the sudden affection and your body shivered at the feel of his lips. 

You sighed heavily and finished the rest of the cigarette. Now you know why the pain Steve caused lasted no more than a couple of weeks. 

__

You recognized how dangerous it is to entertain the idea that he might feel the same. 

You felt like you were going insane because you kept connecting the dots that need not to be linked. _Shouldn’t ever be linked_. 

You become hyper aware of the little things he does to you. The way his touch lingered on your skin. The way his eyes followed you when you moved about the kitchen cooking with him. Or the way he’d sling his arm on your shoulders when you watch Netflix on the sofa. 

Supposedly Bucky would cross the line with you. What then? Honeymoon and Happy ending? The more you think about it the more ridiculous the notion seemed. Loving your own brother that way would be deranged. You settled that it’s for the best if you don’t nurse the bloom in your heart before getting hurt again. 

Still, you can’t close your ears to the far off beating of yearning. The sound of the distant plumage had stirred the feelings you had for him back in your junior high years. Back when there were only the two of you, holding onto each other since your mother died and your father had thrown himself completely into his work. Leaving the two of you to care for yourselves. 

And he was always there, when you vomited from crying too much after the funeral, when you came to his dorm after a fight with a couple of girls all bruised and bloody. Even when you needed someone to braid your hair. He was always there at every remnant of your younger years. 

A daunting realization came when you realised it was always him. Marrying Bucky’s childhood friend was just the closest thing to having Bucky in a way you always wanted.

—

“I should find my own place, don’t you think?” you said quietly because you were afraid of his disapproval (Or because you don’t really want to?) your eyes unable to meet his. 

You lay together on his bed with your heads on opposite sides of it. Leaving him was a precaution you’re willing to take. 

“What?” brows furrowed.

“I’ll need to move away soon enough. I can’t live forever with you.” 

“Why not? I thought you’re happy here.”

“I am. But i need my own life.” 

“You can have your own life here. With me.”

“Bucky-”

“I don’t mind you know, I really like it when you’re here. You can stay as long as you want.”

“It’s not about that, Buck.” 

he was silent for a moment. the corners of his mouth pulled downwards and he closed his eyes.

“I can’t let you go again.” He pleaded before opening his eyes. 

“Again?” He stayed quiet. Bucky lifted his hand to caress the high of your cheekbone. 

“You’re half my life, Doll.” the phrase he had told you countless times since your adolescent days, a sentence you haven’t heard in the past 2 years. There was a pinch in your heart and you felt like crying. 

All thoughts of leaving his apartment dissipated rather quickly. The ache in your chest grew heavier as you racked your brain to find a proper response. 

“I love you, James.” you answered. _Great job for severing the nerve that connected your brain to your mouth, (y/n)_. A fucking Freudian slip. 

Bucky’s eyes shot into saucers. Pupils black to the rim. You couldn’t believe how fast he discerned your words and it was the strangest feeling to be acknowledged in the way you always wanted. Euphoric and terrifying. 

“I love you, (y/n).” he replied all too quickly. You tried to see another meaning behind it, a misunderstanding. But your judgment seemed to be clouded by the need in your heart for him to love you in _that way_. 

So you gather what courage you had and move your face closer to his. You gave him time if he wanted to pull away. But he didn’t. Bucky was the one who closed the distance. 

A tear slipped from your lid from how much he felt like home. He must have reacted the same because you felt something wet landed on the skin above your lips. And when the need for each other grew stronger, everything fell in place so naturally. 

Buck refused to let you go after that. He slept with his head on your chest and his arm slithered around your stomach. Holding you tight to his bare torso. 

You’ll think about the future tomorrow. The day after. Or the next. You don’t care. You’re with him and everything’s all right.


End file.
